You've Got Another Thing Coming

Harry, Hermione and Lee were doing the rounds of the family looking for Ron.

He wasn't at the twins shop, he wasn't at Ginny and Luna's place, he wasn't with Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Percy were trying to push something legal through the official channels to prosecute people for harassment so he wouldn't have been with them. They'd even gone to Hogwarts to see if he was with Hagrid.

"I can't believe we slept in. I can't believe we slept in when he needed us," Hermione said fretfully.

"Well his mum did say he was a lot better this morning." Harry shrugged.

"But where did he go and why did he go by himself?" Lee asked, trying his best not to sound obsessive in his concern.

"There's no reason he shouldn't go out alone," Hermione said calmly, "it's actually a good thing, a positive step; we should think of how good this has probably been for him."

"But he still gets anxious and stutters and what if somebody gets in his face? What if one of those Howler sending scumbags bump into him?" Harry said, beginning to speak very fast as his tension escalated.

"Ron can't live in fear of 'what if' Harry!" Hermione spun around to stop him in his tracks, "I'm not trying to find him so we can take him home and hide him away. I want to find him to apologise for last night."

"Ron's mum said he told her he wasn't hurt or angry about last night." Lee said as he stepped up to Harry's side, both of them facing her with frowning faces, "He said he didn't feel rejected by you and that it was his...his problem that was messing with him."

Hermione sighed.

"But he's going to feel guilty about what happened with everyone, between the two of us especially, and he needs me for that. He needs me to tell him he has nothing to feel guilty about."

"He needs that Boo woman Hermione." Harry said despondently.

"Yeah but he has to decide to go to her before she can do any good. If it's something he's forced into it won't help." Lee scratched his back over his shoulder as he spoke.

"Your scars?" Hermione asked as she rested her hand upon the dreadlocked wizard's shoulder.

"Just an itch," Lee said with a smile as he rolled his shoulder out from under her sympathetic touch.

"Lee, are you talking to anyone yourself?" Hermione's tone let him know that she already knew the answer and was expecting the reaction she was about to receive.

"I don't need to talk to anybody," Lee said as his smile faltered, "the twins are setting me right on a few things and I'm spending a bit more time with my mum now."

Harry gave a silent nod of understanding. Sometimes help was right there in the very place you were avoiding.

"I just want to find him so I can put my mind at rest again." He tapped the side of his head, "I've got scars in here as well and they itch when I'm worried about him. I just want to know he's doing okay so I don't have to claw at myself trying to scratch it."

The knocking made Fergus very wary. He hoped the newspaper hacks hadn't found out his new address. Clutching his wand at his side he called through the closed door.

"Who's that then?"

"S'me, Ron."

Fergus relaxed and grabbed the door handle to let his friend in.

"What, that's it is it?" Ron's voice said with a huff, "You're just gonna take my word for it and not even check. I c-could be lying y'know?"

Fergus chuckled and threw the door open wide, beaming at his cocky mate.

"I'd recognise that stammer anywhere, get yer erse inside and lay off the Moody impressions."

Ron gave a chuckle and a shake of the head before stepping inside and wandering down the hall. Fergus closed the door behind them and followed him. Ron turned to go into the living room and froze. Fergus almost bumped into him.

"Hey watch it there Weasley, yer allowed in yeh know?" Fergus grinned.

Ron was staring at the wall and mantelpiece in front of him and his eyes were wide. Fergus glanced inside and realised Ron hadn't been expecting the big wall of memorial for all their dead friends and cursed under his breath as he grabbed Ron gently by the shoulder and guided him away from the doorway and through to the kitchen.

"We'll sit in here shall we?"

"Huh?" Ron blinked as he let himself be steered further down the hall and into a wooden chair at the kitchen table.

"Ye okay there Ron?" Fergus asked with concern as he sat down opposite his pale friend.

"I'm...um..." Ron blinked several times and shook his head to clear it, "Can I have a drink?"

Fergus nodded, worriedly.

"Tea?"

"A drink Fergus." Ron said with a meaningful stare.

"Yeah, sure ye can, I've Firewhiskey or mead or Butterbee-"

"Sloe Vodka? Got any of that?" Ron interrupted.

Fergus blinked and stared at Ron in shock. Sloes were very potent and Sloe Vodka was strong enough to kill a troll with one bottle. He'd kept a bottle hidden way at the back of his kitchen cupboard for the times when he just wanted to have a shot that would clear every thought clean out of his head until morning but he preferred to wallow in a bottle of Firewhisky or some Bramble Brandy rather than send himself silly on a couple of gulps of the Vodka. He was immediately worried about Ron's state of mind if he was asking for something as savage as that.

"I do but...it's a bit early for that Ron. I've never poured a shot of Sloe-V before six o'clock." Fergus said as he watched Ron staring at his hands as if they were somehow different and he was trying to work out how and why.

"I just came from Azkaban prison and I really w-want a drink Fergus." Ron said unsteadily.

Fergus plunged his arm into the open cupboard and knocked over several glasses before pulling down a small shot glass and setting it down on the table before Ron with a bang.

"Sorry, I'm just gettin' it for yeh." Fergus mumbled as he turned back and rose up on tiptoes to rummage for the bottle of dark purple vodka.

Ron rolled the small glass back and forth between his finger and thumb while his free hand pushed through his hair. He sighed and Fergus grunted as he just managed to claw the bottle towards him with his fingertips.

"So," the Irishman said as he lowered the two thirds full bottle of Sloe Vodka down and unscrewed the cap, "what were ya doin' in Azkaban anyway?"

"I went to see a Death Eater." Ron answered emptily.

Fergus pressed his lips together tightly and wished he wasn't alone with Ron for this.

"Why?"

"Because he kept asking me to." Ron shrugged.

Fergus poured Ron a shot of the Vodka and sat down across the table from the blank looking redhead once again.

"What did he want from ya mate?"

"A favour," Ron said with a distant little laugh.

Ron's looked at the glass of Sloe Vodka and lifted it to his nose to sniff it.

"That worthless little gobshite!" Fergus hissed, banging his fist on the table, "Who are any of them te be askin' ya fer anythin'?"

Ron licked his lips and remained focused on the contents of the glass as he answered.

"It was the Skunk Head one," Ron said before downing the shot in one while Fergus winced.

He didn't know if he was wincing over the thought of knocking back a shot of Sole Vodka so early in the evening or the thought that Ron had just been face to face with that vile Death Eater again. Ron swallowed and gasped as he slammed the shot glass back down on the kitchen table.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed as his eyes bulged and he fanned into his open mouth as if it was on fire.

"Feel better now?" Fergus asked, eyebrows cocked with sympathetic smugness...almost the way his mother would look at him when he had a hangover, he realised.

"Why has my head gone numb?" Ron panted shakily.

"Because yer not a hardcore drunk ya great eejit!" Fergus laughed as he screwed the cap back on the bottle.

"No," Ron said, sliding his glass across the table, "gi's another one."

"Ron, no!" Fergus said firmly.

Ron's eyes glared at Fergus lividly.

"You're in no position to tell me I can't have another drink Finnigan!"

"Is tha' what this is then? Yeh makin' a point ta me are ya?" Fergus snapped suspiciously, "Don't make that point wi' this stuff. It'll kill yeh."

"Well look at you!" Ron jumped up from his seat and leaned over the table towards Fergus, "You've moved out, you've moved on, you're coping and I bet your bloody Howler's have stopped haven't they?"

Fergus drew in a calming breath and let it out.

"Look mate, I think we should call ya folks t-"

"You even have a living room full of death and it doesn't bother you!" Ron waved behind him and out the kitchen door, "You numbed yourself with booze and I wanna be where you are. I wanna play catch up so gimme another!"

"No!" Fergus jumped out of his seat and yelled into Ron's face.

"Fucking hypocrite!" Ron spat before lunging for the bottle and yanking it from Fergus' hand.

"Ron, ya not in yer right mind." Fergus hurried around the table but Ron was already pacing around it the other way and unscrewing the cap, "Ya need help, like that woman ya told me about before. Try talkin' ta her before doin' things my stupid way."

"And what am I supposed to tell the bitch?" Ron bellowed, arms flailing, "The man who may very well be responsible for me getting out of that place alive, but who also let me get molested and fed human body parts, has just asked me to kill him. What can she do about that? Can she decide for me?"

Fergus froze on the spot and swayed slightly. Absent-mindedly he reached for his bottle of Firewhisky and pulled out the cork before taking a large swig.

"Jaysis Weasley," Fergus said after swallowing, shaking his head in disbelief.

Ron lifted the bottle to his lips and Fergus was about to lunge over the table to stop him but Ron let the bottle fall again so he could smirk at the worried Irishman.

"Whenever you drink Finnigan, I drink."

With that Ron brought the bottle to his lips once again and threw back his head to take a gulp.

"Jaysis Weasley, no! Please don't, take the Mead, take the whiskey just pour that stuff down the sink." Fergus begged him.

"Down the sink?" Ron snorted, "You want me to pour the good stuff down the sink? What kind of drunk are you?"

Fergus drew his wand and flicked it at the bottle.

"Accio!"

The bottle flew from Ron's grasp and through the air towards Fergus' waiting hand. Ron brandished his own wand at the bottle and sent a spell flying before the Irishman could grab it.

"Expelliarmis!"

The bottle spun in mid air like a Catherine Wheel and shattered against the wall. They both stood, wands drawn and breathing heavily, and waited for the other to do something.

"So what exactly did the Skunk Head ask yeh ta do?"

"I told you, he wants me to k-kill him."

"Well he must know that won't happen, not in the security of Azkaban. Tell me what he said Ron."

"He said he wants to die. He said I owe him a favour. He asked me to go to the Minister and request, as his victim," Ron said the word 'victim' with a disgusted wince, "his execution."

"Let him rot," Fergus said simply.

"He won't rot," Ron said rubbing his face roughly, "he'll just keep writing and writing and writing..."

"Then let him die," Fergus shrugged.

"Don't I already have enough blood on my hands?" Ron said wearily, slumping down into Fergus' vacated seat at the table, "I can't kill him for revenge Fergus. I can barley live with killing that fucker in self defence."

Ron reached over and grabbed the bottle of mead.

"Don't mix yer drinks," Fergus smiled sadly.

Ron's smile reflected Fergus' as he looked up and uncorked the bottle.

"Well you took away my option to stick to the vodka so I'll have to go with this."

Ron lifted the bottle to his lips and Fergus grabbed a chair and dragged it around the table to sit at Ron's side. He pulled the bottle away and upturned it over the sink.

"I'm beggin' ya, don't."

Ron's eyes flickered down to Fergus' bottle and then back up at his face with a defiant arch of the eyebrow.

"Ya said you'd drink when I drank so that means ya have ta stop when I stop." Fergus said fiercely, pouring his bottle of Firewhisky down the sink too.

"That easy for you to stop is it?"

"No," Fergus shook his head, "but if yer strong then I'll be strong too. Yer the leader after all Weasley."

Ron slumped over the table, head supported in his hands.

"I was never a leader."

"Ye were our backbone in that place. Every time he knocked ya down, up you'd get ready ta fight some more." Fergus said, gripping Ron by the shoulder and giving him a bracing shake.

"That's how I used to be," Ron murmured as he settled his head on the table and closed his eyes.

"It's how y'are." Fergus said firmly.

Ron didn't answer. He'd got what he was after. He'd numbed himself into unconsciousness.

He felt as if he had an axe buried into his skull.

He groaned and suddenly it felt as if his eyelids had been ripped off and molten lava was being poured directly into his eye sockets. It turned out to be nothing more than Harry opening the curtains and letting the morning light in.

"Fugginell!" Ron moaned into his pillow as he buried his face deep into the downy softness to block out the light.

"No you don't," Harry said as he grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him over, "you're not suffocating yourself on top of everything else!"

As soon as Ron lay on his back he felt the room spin and his stomach trying to force itself out of his mouth. His eyes widened and stung, he rolled over the side of the bed and promptly threw up all down Harry's front.

"Oh lovely!" Harry groaned, rubbing Ron's back as the sweaty redhead retched and coughed, "You have all the fun with Fergus and save all this for me. I'm touched, I really am."

Ron had another convulsive puking fit, this time on Harry's slippers, before wiping his mouth on Harry's sleeve and frowning up at him.

"I did what with Fergus?" he croaked, "Where's Fergus?"

"Fergus is at home. You made him pour all his booze down the sink to keep you from drinking it. Don't you remember?" Harry pushed Ron away from him and held him firmly in the sitting position.

Ron swallowed and then let his tongue flop out of his mouth. He tried to speak with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a blue sock.

"Is my tongue falling to pieces?"

Harry baulked at the vile morning, vomit and hangover breath that had been blasted into his face.

"Put it away and listen to me," Harry said as he perched himself on the edge of Ron's bed, still holding him steady by the upper arms, "how could you go to Azkaban alone like that?"

Ron blinked and swallowed before answering the question with a look of deep concentration on his face.

"I went to Azkaban."

"Yes, I know that," Harry said impatiently, "I asked you how you could have gone alone. Do you realise what could have happened to you?"

"There was a guard right outside," Ron said with a yawn and a groan.

"A Dementor is going to look after you when you keel over with a seizure is it?" Harry snapped.

"They don't use Dementors at Azkaban any more Harry, they betrayed the Ministry remember?" Ron said as he tried to lie back down on his bed and go back to sleep.

"That's not the point!" Harry said as he gave Ron a sharp shake to keep him awake.

"You left me behind," Ron said lazily, "you always leave me behind."

Harry's indignant anger dissolved and he lowered Ron down onto his pillow, pulling the covers back over him.

"I'm sorry I left you," he said hoarsely, "I should have been with you in Venlo, not doing press conferences and political crap. I should have been with you when they attacked the safe house and I'm sorry."

Ron looked at Harry as if he'd just strung together a series of random words that made no sense at all.

"Every time you went after Voldoo-know-who," Ron said waving a lazy hand as if he couldn't remember which version of the Dark Lord's name he was supposed to be using, "you always left me behind and faced him on your own."

"I had to," Harry said, shocked to find himself thumbing away a blob of sick from his best friend's chin without feeling disgusted by it, "he was my enemy more than he was anybody else's, my demon, the monster I had to vanquish."

"Now I have a monster too," Ron said as he snuggled into his pillow, "and you gotta stay behind and wait f'me to vanquish him."

Harry stared at his hung-over friend and reached for a potion bottle that was set upon the bedside cabinet.

"Here, take this, your mum said it would stop your head hurting and you should be okay by lunchtime."

Ron lifted his head up from the pillow and squinted at the bottle. Harry removed the stopper and tilted Ron's head at an angle before pouring the potion into his mouth. Ron grimaced and swallowed it down.

"Did Fergus tell you what the Skunk Head wanted?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded as he waited for Ron to drift away and sleep off the rest of his hangover.

"What would you do?" Ron asked sleepily.

Harry's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched.

"If he really had a death wish...I'd set my best friend on him."

Ron had just finished brushing his teeth when he felt a familiar stirring in his loins and groaned into his mouth full of minty foam.

"What is it with you and the bathroom?" he asked his hard on with a weak chuckle, "There's nothing in here to get turned on by."

He leaned over the sink and spat. Rolling his eyes at how bad things must be for him to be trying to reason with his cock he heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Ron, was that you I just heard in there?" Hermione called through the locked door.

Ron lowered his head and whispered at the tent in his pyjama bottoms.

"See this is why I can't help you out mate...she always shows up and we don't want her to think we're a pair of tossers do we?"

"Ron?" Hermione asked, "Who are you talking to?"

"The mirror," Ron called out and scowled at his reflection, daring the mirror to say something and drop him in it.

"Yes dear," the mirror sang out in an uncommonly honest voice, "we were just talking about you and how pretty you are looking these days."

Ron rolled his eyes and wrote 'Git' in steam on the mirror before tugging at his pyjama bottoms in an attempt to disguise the obvious with no success. He grabbed a long bath towel and held it up to his face as if he was wiping it clean, so it hung before him in just the right place to hide his bathroom salute, and unlocked the door.

"Hiya," he smiled awkwardly, "ignore that thing, it's just on a wind up today."

"Isn't it always?" Hermione grinned, "So how are you feeling?"

Ron cringed with embarrassment and Hermione chuckled and approached him to give him a comforting pat on the arm.

"I think I know what you were doing but really Ronald," Hermione said with narrowing eyes, a sure sign of her disapproval, "getting Fergus to see how destructive his dependence on alcohol can be via alcohol poisoning was not the best idea you've ever had."

"I didn't have alcohol poisoning did I?" Ron asked, face falling.

"No you didn't but you were close enough for my liking thank you!"

Hermione's scornful expression gradually melted into a wide smile and she stepped right into him and snaked her arms around his body. Ron suddenly remembered that he didn't really want her pressing right up against him at that moment and was about to jump away when he realised that her hips were pressed right up against his and there was no third party coming between them.

"I didn't get to speak to you all day yesterday," Hermione sighed into his chest, "and I really wanted to clear the air and make sure you knew I hadn't rejected you."

Ron kissed the top of her head and held her close to him.

"I knew that wasn't why you wouldn't stay. Don't fret about it."

Hermione sighed again, her breasts pushing against the bottom of his ribcage, and she lifted her head and rose up onto tiptoes so she could nuzzle into the side of his neck.

"I wish I could have stayed," she whispered before kissing his pulse point, "I love being close to you like this," she kissed him again and ran her hand through his hair at the back of his head, "I love how it felt to wake up with you in the morning," she pulled his head down to her level and softly kissed his lips, "and I'll wait however long it takes to do it so don't you dare hurry."

"I won't," Ron spoke into her mouth before kissing her back and squeezing her buttocks and pushing her against him firmly.

"I can wait for as long as you need," Hermione smiled and then stroked against Ron's tongue with hers and withdrew it again with a hum of contentment, "because we can do this while we wait and this is wonderful!"

Ron plunged his tongue into her mouth and enticed hers into his. They both angled their heads for better access and Ron massaged their tongues together before sucking upon the warm wet pink muscle and pulled back. He kissed Hermione's bottom lip, then the top, then the corner of her mouth and she parted the moist fleshy cushions and her warm breath caressed his face.

Ron ground his hips against her and then frowned. Hermione didn't notice and he went back to kissing her again. A little while later he pulled her body in towards himself and thrust his hips forward, giving a moan of frustration before Hermione leaned back to look at him, worry clearly etched upon her features.

"Too much?"

"No," Ron said, aggravated and confused, "Not enough!"

"What?" Hermione blinked.

"Before you came in...it was...I was..."

"Oh!" Hermione jumped back, "did I interrupt you again?"

"No!" Ron exclaimed hastily, "I was just in an excitable state and then I lost it and now...now I can't...why can't I when you're here with me? Why is it only when I'm on my own and there's nothing sexy going on around me at all?"

"You came to the bathroom looking for sexual stimulus?" Hermione asked, her clinical bookworm hat firmly on her head.

"I came into the bathroom to brush my teeth!" Ron said indignantly.

"Look Ron its fine that you're not aroused all the time. Most women would be relieved to have a boyfriend who isn't constantly rutting against her every ti-"

"But I want to be!" Ron said with strangled frustration, "I want to be aroused by you. I used to be all the time and now it's...it's like...like I can only get it up when I'm alone."

"What did we say about you pushing this Ron?" Hermione said with concern.

"But I wasn't pushing anything," Ron struggled to explain, "I was feeling good and then when we were close I wanted to feel the same with you but...it wasn't happening."

"This is a new step for us and you can't tear yourself up over it because it doesn't happen immediately."

"But it had happened, it had already hap-happened!" Ron said, throwing the towel to the floor in disgust at his stutter returning, "I don't want to get a hard-on brushing my teeth or taking a shower. I want to...well I don't want to be turned on with you at random but I wanna..."

"Ron," Hermione took his hands and looked him in the eye, easy enough when he had his head down the way it was at that moment, "don't add this to everything else you have on your mind right now. You were on the receiving end of unwanted physical contact and now you're easing yourself into becoming sexual again."

"So now I can't even control my p-p-penis because of my traumatic fucking experience?" Ron said angrily, "I've had enough of this shit Hermione. I've had enough of seizures and nightmares and stutters and flashbacks and fascists asking me to kill them. I've had enough!"

Hermione paled and stepped back, looking at him as if terrified about the answer he would give to the question she was about to ask.

"So what are you going to do?"

There was a knock on the door and she looked up from the file she had open on her desk.

"Yes?"

She recognised him immediately, he stepped inside and looked at his feet uncomfortably.

"Um...I dunno if you remember me but..."

"I remember you Ron."

He looked up.

"Could I make an ap-poi-pointment to come and see you or something?"

She smiled and closed the file.

"You can see me right now."

He didn't look any more relieved to hear this news but he closed the door behind him and gave a reluctant smile.

"Thanks Madam Boo."